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Thursday, July 24, 2014

On August 21st, 2014, at 8:00 p.m., 51 years to the day that Peggy wrote her first letter, to Art, she will be launching the paperback version of her book, ‘Such Little Time: A Collection of Love Letters’, in the building where they first met, on Lake-on-the- Mountain, in a dance hall (affectionately known as the, ‘Bucket of Blood’), which is now, The Miller House Cafe-Brasserie. Please join us for the celebration as Peggy, at 86, becomes an author for the first time.For more information click here.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

There was something that Pope Francis said a while ago, something
like, “You can’t be human alone. You need others to be human with you.” That
stuck with me. Isn’t that what many seek, someone to be human with? Isn’t that
why we read stories? In the pages we find people who aren’t too frightened to love.
Who aren’t afraid to be human.

The world often seems filled with cruel manipulations,
thoughtless, uncaring people so removed from the human condition that you have
to attempt to explain to them what it’s like to feel. You can’t. You can’t break down what being
human is. What it’s like to see someone you care about sick, ageing or dying and
feel their pain and the ache inside you that demands you do something, or at least be there for them in
whatever way you can.

You can’t explain to someone what loyalty is, or the pain of
betrayal, or how much a broken heart hurts. You can’t quantify and qualify
mercy or compassion or what it’s like to be alive on an emotional level. You
simply can’t. If you get angry or upset when watching the news because of all
the pain and needless suffering that people inflict on people; if all the
indifference makes you feel a little ill and someone doesn’t get it because,
hey, it doesn’t affect you directly so who cares? Or that sometimes you need to find a way to laugh at it all, because if you don't laugh it will break you, only to be condemned for being inappropriate. You can’t explain what it’s like to be human.

I heard once that Jesus (who was Jewish, btw) didn’t come to teach us how to be gods;
he came to show us how to be human. That so many misuse his teachings to remove
themselves from their own humanity, and sit in the seat of judgement, is a
discussion for another day. But, maybe, Jesus let himself be tortured and brutalised
so horrendously in hopes to shock us into caring, to touch our heart and make
us appalled by our own brutality, disturbed that people could do this to
someone who did nothing but preach love and kindness, give out free health
care, feed the poor and demand a more equal sharing of wealth; and say that we
should treat each other with the same respect we want for ourselves.

As the
story goes, God so loved the world that he gave his only son. If we were a
little more human, we never would have killed him—or so many others since. The
sacrifice would have been unnecessary. He died for our sins and our sins were
fear and indifference.

I’m rambling now, getting away from my original point. Life
is an emotional journey and what I think most people want is someone to share that
journey with, someone who allows them to feel, allows them to care and who doesn't belittle
them for it. A person who won’t take advantage of our trust or kindness;
who will give us the strength and courage to be vulnerable. Someone to be
human with.

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About Me

Colin Frizzell is a playwright, poet, screenwriter and critically acclaimed author. He also worked in the classroom for six semesters as a writer-in-residence with Now Hear This’ Students, Writers and Teachers program in Toronto. Colin’s books (Chill, Just J) have received critical acclaim across North America (American Library Association, Globe and Mail, Canadian Children’s Book Centre, Ontario Library Association, Today’s Parent, etc.), been translated into Norwegian and Swedish, and adopted into the curriculum of several Ontario high schools. For more information please visit www.colinfrizzell.ca
Live simple: dream big.